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Friday, May 8, 2015

The air is full of just budded, misty green leaves. Spring peepers fill the marshy spots with their incessant ringing.Scents come alive and drift into memories. First loves and lost loves. Places we've left behind.The smell of my toddler's neck slicked with humid curls. The sight of my four-year old's excitement over a newly sprouted plant.Spring holds all of these things.